Backbreaker
by idreamedofstardust
Summary: This is a story of the consequences that result when one woman decides to break up with a deadly, former assassin.
1. Chapter 1

If it helps at all, I felt bad.

The entire morning, my stomach was in thick knots and I must have drawn blood three times just playing with my bottom lip. Staring for ten minutes at the television I'd neglected to turn on, prompted my housemate Carly to ask if I was alright. I didn't reveal nearly as much as I wanted to.

"I'm breaking up with Bucky."

The protein shake she'd been sipping, nearly slipped from her fingers.

"What? Why? You did nothing but gush about him when he finally worked up the nerve to ask you out. He's best friends with freakin' Captain America!"

Her disbelief tightened the knots.

"I do care for him," came my careful response, "but I think it's a one way train. He's still recovering from his past-"

A past I never specified to Carly. Doing so might have caused her to freak out and bail. Paying rent in the city, on your own, is a nightmare.

As far as she knew, James "Bucky" Barnes had been in the military for six years and returned with severe PTSD. While I valued Carly's friendship, it helped that she wasn't a history buff. I'd never have been able to get away with hiding his identity if she didn't think knowing history was absolutely useless.

"-and I don't think I'm what's best in his life right now."

I was actually telling the truth here. Bucky had been...distant.

Don't get me wrong, I gathered he would be. From the moment I first spotted him on the subway, brows furrowed, features pensive, long hair curtaining around pouty lips and a five o'clock shadow, he practically screamed broody. It nearly caused me to look away. With the fallout from my last relationship still fresh in my mind, I refused to give my attention to someone who was emotionally closed off. Selfish as that desire was, it sprouted from a very genuine frustration. I allowed myself to be an open book time and time again. After having my pages torn out more instances than I can count, I learned not everyone deserved my vulnerability. At the top of that list were the guys who never budged on what they felt.

I'm not someone who demands to know what you're feeling every minute of every day. I enjoy being left alone with my thoughts and giving the same courtesy to whoever I'm dating.

But from time to time, I would like to know where I stand and whether my efforts to do the typical romantic things, are actually helpful and enjoyable. Case and point- back in college, I had been in a relationship with a guy who, after five months, revealed he was gay. He then went on to admit that each time he met my older brother Alec, he secretly hoped Alec would abandon his sexuality and ask him out.

Would have been nice to know earlier on, right?

For reasons I considered valid, I had my reservations about dating handsome men who looked off into distances.

Despite my misgivings, it became something of a routine for me to scan him each night I made the journey back home on the subway from work. He was usually clad in workout gear consisting of black gym shorts and a light gray, cotton hoodie. With the way the hoodie hugged his muscles, I wished, with no shortage of pettiness, to see just how sculpted he actually was beneath the fabric. Pathetic, right?

Well, apparently not as much as I thought. The glances I would shoot him, after a few evenings, were returned. Except, the moment he looked up, I'd whip my head around, fast enough to give myself whiplash. In the hellish few minutes afterward, my cheeks would burn and I'd silently pray for more people to file in. I needed to be physically separated from him lest I acted like an idiot. Bound to happen at some point seeing as that's how most of my relationships started.

By the time two weeks had gone by, I realized I had a problem. A staring problem. A creepy, staring problem. I tried to envision someone else on the subway studying me the same way that I studied the man and instantly got sick to my stomach. So, like a rational adult, I switched up my schedule at work and swiped up the morning shifts. This allowed me to get home by four o'clock each day and though I had to ride in a packed environment that rarely allowed me a seat, it was worth giving the poor man some peace of mind.

Then, to my shock, he showed up at the museum I worked at.

My first tour group of the day was waiting patiently at the beginning of the Ottoman Empire exhibit while I chugged down an energy drink in the break room. There was a reason I didn't do morning shifts. Natural energy wasn't something that came to me easily.

Upon greeting them all, I didn't even realize he was among the group. There's an important moment before you begin a tour where you're supposed to meet everybody's gaze with a welcoming smile. Helps develop a comfortable mood and all that jazz. Once, a co-worker of mine who gave tours of Nordic history on the opposite end of the museum, claimed that our boss disguised himself as a civilian in her group just to ensure he was greeted with a smile.

Ever since then, I'd been ultra conscious of doing the same. And as I glanced from person to person, projecting what must have been a slightly too chipper grin, I spotted him. Hidden beneath a baseball cap and a baggy, tan army jacket.

I was too pumped up to feel nervous and this allowed me to guide and explain the history of the Ottoman Empire in under forty minutes. Definitely a personal record.

He hung around when the rest of the group drifted towards the gift shop. There was an expression of uncertainty on his face. I'd seen it before on my own face, though over the years, I got much better at hiding it.

He seemed lost.

I was sympathetic.

As per usual, I approached first. And, as usual, I struck up the conversation.

For such a gorgeous looking fella, he was astonishingly shy. Then again, that was our first meeting and he'd been insistent on trying to convince me he wasn't a stalker. Since I never changed out of my uniform before going home, he managed to get a glimpse of my name tag and place of employment. From then, it was a matter of tracking me down because apparently, his glances at me were way more frequent than mine were at him.

That revelation relieved a lot of unspoken tension and began a relationship that surpassed every other I'd ever had.

Now, I was going to end it.

The knots were unbearably tight.

"I don't understand," Carly pestered, hands on her hips. "He fucking adores you.'

Sighing, I buried my face in the couch. Maybe Carly's reprimanding was good. I needed to arrange my explanation in a way that wouldn't make me feel like such a terrible person. I wasn't breaking up with Bucky for the hell of it. And there were going to be some very intense feelings, at least on my part, after this break up. Who knew you could become addicted to falling asleep next to someone?

"I don't see it," I finally admitted, looking up at her.

Carly's features softened. She expelled her own sigh before making her way over to sit on the couch beside me.

"It's the little things," she assured. "Like, the fact that he spends the night and makes you breakfast in the morning. Or that he makes an effort to get along with Alec, who even the Pope probably wouldn't be able to befriend. Plus, I've never had anyone hold back my hair all night as I barfed up the beginnings of a stomach flu. Pretty sure you were contagious that whole first week, but he stayed by your side."

"Are you trying to make me feel worse?"

"Not at all. I'm just trying to figure out the why. Give me a good reason and I'll support you a hundred percent."

"He-."

I paused, unable to get the reasoning out.

"He is kind," I agreed. "Kinder than what I feel I deserve. He's a good man."

"But?"

"I don't know-."

"Okay, hold up there," Carly interrupted. "When you break it off, you can't say 'I don't know'. You're gonna have to be sure of your feelings."

It took a moment before I nodded. I owed him clarity, not indecisiveness.

"The first month was better than any relationship I'd ever had," I acknowledged. "And I did notice everything you mentioned. _But_ , after that first month and around the time we started to become intimate, he got kind of...removed."

"Removed?"

I clenched my hands to prevent myself from gesturing. It's a difficult habit to break when you explain things to people all day.

"He stopped sleeping over as often as he used to. He stopped sleeping with me, period."

Carly's eyes widened.

"Since when?" she demanded.

"About two weeks back. We still kiss and get into the occasional make out sessions, but he pulls back sooner than usual from me and after the last time we had sex, he said he wanted a little break from...being intimate."

"That son of a bitch!"

Her outburst made me feel the tiniest bit relieved. Though, the insecurity about the request, still held fast. If your partner, out of the blue, wants to stop having sex, it's tough not to think you're at fault.

"I don't mind the break from sex," I went on. "I mean, I do because he's damn good at it, but he's more to me than just sex. So, I was okay with the lack of intimacy. But, he started to remove himself form other aspects of the relationship. Not answering my calls, not wanting to go on dates as often, not wanting to come over here, not speaking as much as he normally does. It got so bad that I even called Steve to ask if there was something stressing him out or if I was doing something wrong. Unfortunately, Steve was just as clueless about the sudden distance as I was. He even promised to talk to Bucky about it. Not that it's helped much."

Carly's arms were crossed. She held the expression of someone I found myself glad to be friends with. I wouldn't want that look aimed at me if I was her enemy.

"Have you tried talking to him about it?"

Hesitating, I answered, "No. I'm trying really hard on not doing the whole 'me constantly asking how my boyfriend is doing' thing. That's what screwed up so many of my past relationships. I'm so insistent on wanting to know what's wrong or how they're feeling. I didn't realize how taxing that could be and I'm trying to give him a good amount of distance because of his...past."

A shitload, to be specific. I'm always very careful to never be the first one to bring it up. Bucky has full reign of that conversation topic. Though, there are times where I wish I could speak freely about it. Let him know, even if it gets repetitive, that I don't care who he was and what the circumstances were that led to his survival.

He feels an unenviable amount of guilt for his years as the Winter Soldier. I get that without having to ask. But I never seem to be able to express enough that I love him regardless.

I love him. God, this was not going to go well.

"I think he's getting ready to break up with me," I said. "And if I'm wrong, then that's worse because this relationship...it's starting to feel like before. With other guys. The voice in the back of my head would tell me that they're not as interested in me anymore, they're not as into it. I always ignored that voice because I thought it was just me being pessimistic. But it's back and this time, I think I'm right."

Carly's nod loosened the tightness of the knot.

"Okay," she maintained. "I get that. Sucks that it's happening with Bucky. I really liked the guy. But I get it. Just want to make sure you're alright. You never broke up with anyone before."

A nervous chuckle sprang from my lips. Five past relationships and I'd been the one dumped each time. Could I handle this?

"If I'm right, it'll be a relief for him. That makes it worth it."

Carly saw the visible depression of my words. Before she stood, she offered me a hug, which I gratefully accepted.

"Good luck," she whispered.

As soon as she left the house, I grabbed my cell phone from the table. Although I wasn't going to be breaking up with him over the phone, the call to meet up still wouldn't be a pleasant one. But, at least I was prepared this time around for the heartbreak that was sure to follow.

 **/./././**

I entered Stark Towers with an unshakable urge to vomit. Since I neglected breakfast, it would've been more of a painful heave and probably no less than what I deserved. There was a good chance this would be the last time I'd be allowed back into the head quarters of the Avengers.

At Steve's insistence, Bucky managed to secure lodging at the tower and the unofficial protection of Tony Stark, a little more than a year ago. For a while, tension was at an all time high between some of the Avengers and Bucky. They failed to see past his former persona.

But, gradually - namely thanks to Steve - they got used to him. So long as he didn't regress back into a mindless, killing machine, he was permitted a place to live and resources to rebuild decades of a stolen life and identity.

That didn't mean Bucky was always a hundred percent comfortable. In fact, he admitted a few times that if it weren't for Steve, he'd have nothing to keep him there.

The access key in my hand was a present after our second date. Through my mindless blubbering, Bucky understood how grateful I was. That he would allow me into his life, to meet Steve, to make the first step...it was a feeling words couldn't express.

Biting my lip, I hit the button for the elevator, grimacing at the nerves building inside me.

 _There's still a chance to bail and avoid this_ , I reminded myself. _You could have this all wrong. Maybe Bucky has a legitimate reason for becoming distant._

Almost instantly, these thoughts were combated with the ever-present fear of rejection. Five times, I'd been broken up with. It never got any less painful. To have Bucky look me in the eyes and tell me I couldn't provide him with what he needed...it would break my heart in a way it'd never been broken before. That wasn't something I could experience again. At least this way, breaking up with him would allow me to feel like I was doing him a service by saying what he clearly wasn't comfortable enough to. It would feel like I spared myself at least some pain.

In the middle of my pondering, the elevator doors sprung open. I nearly hit the 'closed' button as soon as I saw who stood inside.

"Shit," I mumbled.

Tony Stark's face lit up. "Well, if it isn't the assassin whisperer."

Sighing, I reluctantly stepped into the elevator. My finger pressed floor 13 as Tony sized me up, a smirk balanced on his lips.

"We - and by we, I mean everyone except your cyber boytoy - were just talking about how sickly inseparable you two are. Please tell me you're here to ask him to move in with you. I don't even want to know what the precious bedsheets have been through."

On normal occasion, I'd have returned Tony's banter with something equally playful. He loved teasing me about the fact that I seemed to have somehow "neutered the killing machine" and there had to have been some creative uses of his metal arm in the bedroom.

But now, all I could feel was dread.

 _Is Tony going to hate me for this? Is he only friendly because I'm Bucky's girlfriend and by extension, Steve's friend?_

The thought depressed me. I'd have liked to think that Tony valued me as more than just a girl who happened to be dating a reformed assassin, but I could never be too sure. Tony had two sides to him. Cocky, sarcastic, good humored party host and focused, aloof scientist who'd kill for his best friends. Somehow, I felt I didn't fit under the 'best friends' category. This most likely meant that I could be someone he disposed of.

 _That's ridiculous, even for Tony._

"Um, _hellllo_? Since when do you start ignoring the witty things I say?"

I glanced at him and offered up a smile.

"Sorry, Tony. What were you saying?"

Before he could respond, the elevator dinged. My eyes flew up and immediately, my smile disappeared.

Floor 13.

I went to take a step, but Tony's arm lunged in front of me. Too quick for me to see, he punched a few buttons and abruptly, the elevator doors shut. The lift didn't budge from its position on the floor.

"What was that for?" I demanded.

"Well, for one, you're acting weird," came his accusation. "There's no way you can go a minute in my presence without insulting me and defending Benny."

"Bucky," I corrected.

"See?"

He had his arms crossed expectantly. How he managed to pick up on my nervous vibes, I didn't know.

"I'm fine."

"I hope that's not how you lie to Benji."

"Bucky."

"Whatever."

Fighting the urge to scowl, I crossed my arms, mimicking Tony's posture.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Tony arched a brow. "Tough. I want to know why you're acting weird."

"Can't I just ride the elevator in peace?"

"Like you could ever be that lucky with me," he joked. "But in all seriousness, you look like you're here to deliver the news that someone's died. Did you kill your roommate? Do you need help hiding the body? I've got you covered, if that's the case."

Despite the gravity of my situation, I couldn't help but emit a chuckle.

"No, it's not that."

I didn't elaborate, forcing Tony to roll his eyes. "Geez, secretive much? With how antsy you're acting, I'd think you were here to break up with Bolshevik."

When I failed to correct the mispronunciation, Tony stilled.

"Oh."

His eyes got very wide.

I'd have smiled at his expression if my nerves weren't so rattled.

"Oh," he repeated.

"Yeah."

I turned away from his gaze and buried my hands in my pockets. A few seconds of silence trailed by, the elevator remaining unmoved. I finally understood how people could feel uncomfortable in such a small environment.

"We got a Code 34."

My head whipped around to find Tony speaking into his cell phone.

An indistinguishable response had him nodding vehemently.

"Yeah, it's happening, Bruce. Remember, keep the doors locked and only open them for myself or Pepper. We'll let everyone else choose their own hiding spots."

Tony finally noticed my staring and quickly hung up.

"Code 34?" was all I could think to ask.

"A little precaution," he elaborated. "Just in case you ever got the idea to break up with the residential assassin. It sort of keeps us alive for the aftermath."

This time, it was my turn to lift my brows.

"Bucky is not going to go crazy."

"Uh, considering the fact that the reason you two are dating is because he stalked you to the place you worked, I wouldn't put it past him. Plus, the whole 'I used to kill people' thing sorta speaks for itself."

I shook my head, unwilling to believe his insinuation. Never in these mental scenarios did I actually think about how Bucky would react. Perhaps to ease my own pain, I'd assumed he'd breathe a sigh of relief and move on.

"I promise you, Tony, that breaking up is what Bucky wants."

"Whatever helps ease the pain, sister."

His disbelief had me split between two emotions- irritation and doubt.

Tony moved towards the buttons once again, fingers flying across the numbers.

Before the doors swung open, I looked at him. In that moment, I allowed my nerves to physically show.

"Are...are you mad at me?"

Cocking his head, Tony studied me for a moment.

"If you think this is what you need to do, who am I to knock you for it? Just, don't let this prevent you from stopping in every now and again, okay? For amusement purposes, of course."

I nodded, more relieved than I could show at his response.

"Thank you."

"Sure," he answered.

The doors flew back open.

"Oh," Tony added, "don't mention that you talked to me, kay? You and I are pretty cozy with each other and I don't want Billy-"

I aimed a glare at him.

"-to get the wrong idea after you break things off. He might, you know, break mine off."

"I doubt that would be much of a disservice to the world."

Tony gasped dramatically, before sending me a quick wink. I stepped out of the elevator, feeling exceptionally lighter. That is until the doors slammed shut behind me and the hallway leading to Bucky's room, loomed before me.

Suddenly, the courage Carly and Tony had supplied me with, melted away.

 _Have my exes ever felt this way before breaking up with me? Is it common to feel as if your heart is going to drop out of your stomach?_

I trudged forward with a visible unease. My mind rehearsed what I wanted to say in such a frantic manner that by the time I stopped outside Bucky's room, I'd completely forgotten how I wanted to begin the conversation.

 _Shit! Did I want to break it easily? Or lay it all out right away?_

My mind still hand't made up a choice when I knocked on the door.

I wasn't sure if I was happy or upset when it swung open immediately.

Upon noting the grimace resting on Bucky's face as he took me in, suddenly, I felt a sad sort of confidence sweep through me.

 _He used to light up when he looked at me. Or at least smile. He used to react._

 _This really is over._

Swallowing tightly, I offered him a hesitant smile. "Hey. Mind if I come in?"

His metal hand, gripping onto the door handle, tightened. The whine of iron, met my ears. He observed me briefly before looking down to his feet.

"This can't be long," he answered. "I'm-."

He glanced up at me, teeth clamping down on his lower lip. Once more, he severed his gaze. After a forceful inhale, he continued.

"-I'm a little preoccupied."

I didn't believe him, but nodded as if I did.

Stepping to the side, he allowed me entrance, closing the door after I stepped forward. He hovered at my side for a moment and though I didn't meet his gaze, I struggled not to turn and try to embrace him. Before the struggle could advance to an urge, Bucky retreated a safe distance from me. I followed him into the kitchen, careful not to get too close. A quick glance at the living room had me suppressing some shock.

The place looked...unkempt. Bucky was, for as long as I'd known him, impeccable in both his hygiene and living conditions. Cleaning up after himself had been essential when he'd joined the army, then kicked into overdrive as he slipped undetected, from country to country. Leaving a trail behind meant that there was the possibility of being found.

Though the Winter Soldier was long gone, he'd passed the habit of effectively cleaning up after himself on to Bucky.

To see a chair tipped over, the comforter from his bedroom- resting in neglect - across the floor, and the blinds hanging haphazardly in front of some dusty windows, made me wonder just exactly what was going on with him.

 _I can still ask,_ offered the optimistic side of me. _I can explain my worries to him and maybe they won't be anything to worry about after all._

Unfortunately, a stronger part of me rebelled. It couldn't handle being right if the worries were sound.

I slid a hand into my pocket. When I pulled out the access key and set it on the kitchen counter, I knew, without looking up, that I had Bucky's undivided attention.

He stood as far from me as possible, back digging into the kitchen sink, arms crossed. If I'd opted to analyze the expression on his face as well as his body language, I'd have easily picked up on the anxiety radiating off of him. Once the key was on the counter, however, his anxiety switched to confusion.

"Does it not work anymore? I know Stark had plans to update the security. I'll get a new key from him."

Fiddling with the hem of my sweatshirt, I met Bucky's eyes.

"I got in just fine. I'm, ah, actually giving it back."

Despite Bucky's previous attempts to keep his distance, he actually took a step forward. The confusion was definitely still there, but something darker lurked as well. His tightened jaw and stern eyebrows, hinted at this. I tried to give emotion to what flickered across his face, but it disappeared so quickly I couldn't have been sure I'd actually seen it.

"You sounded quiet on the phone," he spoke. "I know we haven't been talking as much-."

"You."

Bucky frowned. "I don't understand."

"You," I repeated, "haven't been talking as much. To me."

He paused.

"I know."

When he didn't explain any further, I straightened up.

"Look, I know I'm not the best girlfriend in the world. I'm clingy because I don't know how else to show I care about you. I get that isn't attractive. If anything, it's sad and desperate. I also know it can't be easy dating someone who doesn't have a job that pays six figures. Tougher probably because I love my job and never plan on leaving it. Plus, the whole having a hard-on for history, has probably weirded you out before. You're not alone in that. You're also not alone in hating my brother, either. Everyone hates him. Well, except me. Point is, I know he's tough to handle. Also, you could date women much hotter than me. Women that are experienced and can make you crave intimacy, rather than be repelled by it. You deserve to date someone like that."

Bucky stared at me, wide eyed.

"I'm not an easy person to love or care for," I continued, swallowing past the burning in my throat. "And I'm smart enough to pick up on the signs that the romance is fading. So, I'll save you the trouble of feeling like the bad guy. You've experienced that too much already."

My fists were clenched so tight that I barely felt the bite of nails against skin.

 _Just get through this. It'll be painful, but at least you won't be forcing a dying relationship._

"I think, given the circumstances, that it's best we break up."

I glanced down at my feet, completely missing the panic enter Bucky's blue eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you wanted. I'm sorry I didn't pick up on what that was in the first place."

The sting I received from my own words, amazed me. It felt like the backstory to every failed relationship I'd ever been in.

 _Sad, isn't it?_

"You are breaking up with me?"

Keeping my head down, I gave a firm nod.

 _Figures he'll sound emotionless about it. Maybe Carly was right. Self blame isn't the answer. After all, Bucky also had the responsibility of saying he wasn't feeling it anymore._

But I couldn't find the energy to blame Bucky for this. Making him feel guilt for not reciprocating my feelings would turn me into a very shitty person. For now, I'd leave that trait to Alec.

When Bucky stayed silent, I turned around, grateful to know the deed was done. Furthermore, I'd managed to hold back the tears, so that was a plus.

Of course I knew it wouldn't be so easy later tonight. Once alone with my thoughts, the tears wouldn't come. No, something far worse would. That the feeling was so familiar to me, only made the agony of this moment that much more concrete.

I made my way back to Bucky's door, only faintly noting it'd be the last time I'd be in his apartment.

My mouth parted to offer a last minute goodbye, but thought better of it. I bit my tongue instead.

The door clicked shut behind me, and with a violent ache in my chest, I walked away.

* * *

 **Next chapter: Bucky's POV. Is the break up really as simple and clear cut as it seems?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bucky's POV**

My first instinct was to kill Banner. Not quickly, either. The scientist would suffer tortures I still knew very well how to implement.

I didn't act out on this, however, just barely holding myself back from stalking down to the lab. Rationally, I had to take in what just happened.

 _She broke up with me._

I tried to keep my hands from shaking, but the effort was impossible. The finality in her voice- no emotion could describe the feeling it brought about. Being experimented on was preferable to hearing-.

Biting back what felt suspiciously like a whimper, I straightened up, eyes boring into the door.

This was a mess. A mess that could still be repaired, but not easily. Not without letting myself recognize what I've tried very, _very_ hard to repress.

 _ **I told you this would happen.**_

With a sharp exhale, I clenched my jaw.

 _Shut up._

 ** _I told you keeping your distance wasn't smart. You knew I was right. Yet, you trusted the scientist over me._**

My hands balled into fists. I marched into the living room and sank down on the nearest couch.

 _I needed to keep my distance. Banner was right about that._

I waited for him to respond, but there was only silence.

 _If I let you handle my feelings for her, you would have scared her off._

 ** _At least she would have known she was desired. You heard the pain in her voice. You are responsible for that, not me. Had you listened to me, you would not have put yourself through this worthless struggle. All for what? So you could take pride in being noble? Heroic?_**

Try as I might to block the voice out, a part of me wouldn't allow it. It was the part he still existed in. Would _always_ exist in. Banner had assured me I could become fully sane again and extinguish that formerly ruthless side of me; but even then, I had suspected this wasn't entirely possible. I was a part of the Winter Soldier too long. No matter the efforts I'd put into silencing him, he would always be a part of me.

To know he was right all along, was extremely discouraging.

 _Banner had a point,_ I tried to insist _. Your affections for her were too intense._

 ** _Our affections,_** he corrected. ** _I verbalized everything you were too frightened to say._**

I shook my head, attempting to arrange my thoughts. Attempting to figure out if listening to the Soldier would have actually changed this outcome.

 _No,_ I scolded silently. _She would have ran._

Wouldn't she?

It was difficult to tell, probably because I was so damn convinced I'd been doing the right thing.

I was never prepared to have my life changed just by taking a ride home on the subway. That's how these sort of things happen, don't they? When you're least expecting it.

My senses immediately picked up that I was being analyzed and initially, I'd been put on edge. Dormant impulses suddenly rose to the surface and I wondered how best to go about killing this person. It was empty enough in the subway cart for me to do it successfully. Plus, some members of HYDRA still thought I was too valuable to give up. That they would send one person to find me, was laughable, but all the same, I couldn't let my guard down.

So, in an effort to scrutinize my opponent, I looked up, features blank, mouth tight.

Instead of a menacing block of muscle, I was met with wide, green eyes and red, parted lips. She quickly turned her head, seemingly finding great fascination with how grimy the floor was. It didn't click right away until I caught her staring the second time. A telling hint of red, spread through her cheeks and down to her neck.

For the next few nights, I couldn't stop myself from trying to meet her eyes, stunned at what was happening. Moreso, at how foreign the feelings stirring inside me, were. I had checked out my fair share of women before, but never was the urge to gain their notice, so magnetic. It didn't even occur to me not to try and return her glances. Something about knowing that she'd willingly initiated them, thrilled me.

The glances inspired me to initiate an introduction. Seeing as my first impulse was to kill her, I could only imagine that she might try to go for pepper spray if I kept up my intense staring.

However, this was easier said than done.

A younger, less scarred version of myself who was long dead, would have considered her a fine looking gal and struck up conversation. Teased her, perhaps, about the not so subtle glances she threw my way.

But she didn't meet old me. Which was unfortunate. In some ways, he would have been better suited for her. He would have been safe and polite, selfless and gentlemanly.

Instead, she caught the attention of a scarred man with two varying personalities attempting to co-exist. Really, she was doomed the moment the Soldier agreed that the blush covering her cheeks, was indeed cute.

It'd been excruciating, deciding what to do next. Say something or keep silent? Old pick up lines wouldn't work. It was a new age and my delivery was rusty. A few times after returning to the tower, I considered asking Steve what might be appropriate.

This was when the Soldier made his feelings very clear.

 _ **Do not involve him in this. She is ours.**_

Though the aggressiveness behind the thought was worrying, I couldn't find the will to argue. Secretly, I liked how it sounded. _She was ours_. As if it were already decided and fate resolved to be nice to me, even though it had no right to be.

Unfortunately, my indecision and lack of finesse, caused her to vanish one night. That night stretched into a week, until I found myself riding home alone, scolding myself for not having at least said 'hello'. To make matters worse, I knew it was irrational to try to find her. What the hell could I possibly offer anyone? As far as I was concerned, people like me didn't deserve happy endings. Our loneliness would serve as atonement for all the misery we'd caused.

And yet, a part of me refused to give up so easily; the Soldier part of me. He wouldn't allow my desires to go unnoticed. Not when I'd been suppressing them for so long on orders by those who once controlled us. Orders I had a difficult time, despite liberation, not following.

 ** _Her name tag read Eliza. She works at the museum three blocks from the gym we attend._**

I tried to convince myself that visiting her would be a one time thing. If she didn't know she was being observed, maybe some of her less pleasing traits would come out. I'd been alive long enough to know that a pretty face couldn't mask true ugliness.

But, observing her did nothing to deter my interest. If anything, it solidified it.

She was a charming woman with a beautiful smile. Additionally, it was easy to determine that she took great pride in her job. Anyone could memorize and regurgitate information. Not many could make the information sound as if knowing it, bettered you as a human being.

Halfway through the exhibit, I experienced my first stab of jealousy. I no longer wanted to be hidden among the group. I no longer wanted to share her attention with bored teenagers and tourists that wouldn't stop snapping pictures of everything. I no longer wanted to stay silent and pretend disinterest was a better, safer path.

So, I stuck around. The nerves nearly caused me to bolt, but deep down, I knew I'd regret it if I did.

Once the tour group had filed out, I patiently waited to see if she'd do the same. But instead, she turned to me, recognition evident on her face. Upon smiling and approaching me, I knew my fate was sealed. I would be committed to this woman, for better or for worse.

 _Then how did it go so wrong?_

 ** _You allowed someone else to limit your affections._**

I didn't deny this, and witnessing the fallout from my decision only served to reaffirm just how idiotic my actions had been. This break up was entirely preventable, had I simply communicated instead of suppressing what I felt.

But that was the issue. I felt so strongly that it scared me at times.

Being close to Eliza was... _intoxicating_ , to say the least. Physical attraction aside, it was difficult to keep quiet around her. She always held a desire to hear what was on my mind, no matter how much or little I said. Prior to meeting her, I didn't realize so many unspoken thoughts existed in my head. Some mundane, others of a darker nature. But whatever passed my mouth, she responded to it without judgment.

Perhaps that's what astounded me the most. Even Steve, despite his gracious attempts to treat me like an old friend, couldn't always keep the trepidation from his face. Out of the blue, I would recall a memory from my days under HYDRA and suddenly, an unspoken tension would enter the room. As if speaking of my former actions would somehow trigger me into repeating them. I never let on how frustrated his hesitation made me, but it lingered at the back of my mind like an immovable anchor.

With Eliza, I was able to discuss events that had once shamed me into weeks of silence. After all, it never crossed my mind to try to sugar coat what I had done. I figured (and the Soldier agreed) that if she were to make the decision to continue seeing me, she should do it with full knowledge of how dangerous I had once been (and still could be).

I can't remember who had been more surprised - me or the Soldier - when she rebutted my memory of assassinating a peaceful world leader with a tale about backing her father's car into a neighbor's mailbox and blaming it on her brother. The laugh she managed to pull from me came so naturally that I barely registered falling backwards and pulling Eliza's startled form down to the floor with me. That night had ended in her bed, cuddled in a position that made me want to permanently wrap myself around her and never leave.

Of course I wasn't stupid enough to think Eliza's lack of judgment meant she approved. Her moral compass was visible from a mile away.

However, I learned she was a little more desensitized than most when it came to the atrocities a human was capable of, thus explaining why she was able to listen to me without flinching.

Because history seldom involved peaceful revolutions, she believed violence was a hardwired response to change, even in the most peaceful of human beings. And more times than not, those peaceful human beings, if they attempted to remain neutral in times of moral conflict, were forced to either adopt the role of the enforcer or fall into the position of the pawn. With a delicateness I admired, she helped me come to terms with what I had done, simply by stressing that because my actions weren't made out of freewill, but rather events out of my control (something I had a difficult time remembering because the feeling of shame was so powerful), they weren't a reflection of who I was.

Understandably, I had a hard time processing this, even when I knew there was a great deal of truth to it.

On the other hand, the Soldier practically hummed his appreciation at Eliza's philosophy, most likely because it caused the amount of self loathing I experienced on a daily basis, to steadily decrease. He didn't carry the shame of our actions to nearly the degree that I did. He was the side of me that was instinct, drive, and discipline. With him, I was able to endure, adapt, and survive under the most grueling commands and conditions. Once I had tapped into him, he had no intentions of subsiding. After all, he was responsible for my current existence. Why waste the energy on guilt?

Eliza helped us reach a sort of...balance. Though he didn't empathize, the Soldier understood my grief and genuinely wished me to be in a better state of mind. In return, I stopped trying so hard to forget he existed. There was a peaceful transition I underwent thanks to Eliza. We were a little finer in tune, a little more emotionally stable.

What I wasn't prepared for, as a result of equilibrium, was fighting off the influence of his suggestions and feelings whenever Eliza was near. I had thought it was bad when he began to feel emotionally connected to her, but that had only been the start of it.

After she said something intellectually stimulating, I'd suddenly find myself with thoughts of stripping off her clothes and making love to her in whatever public place we were at. If she made us laugh, there was suddenly a temptation to press into her body like needy animal, completely disregarding whoever was in the nearby vicinity. If contentedness arose from something she said or did, the desire to fall to my knees and worship her in some very wicked ways, was nearly impossible not to act out on. Even when arguments developed, usually as a result of opposing opinions or something as petty as a disagreement on where to eat for dinner, there lingered a need to kiss her until she couldn't think straight. In particular, it was when she argued that the Soldier felt insatiable in his appetites. And I certainly shared those thoughts with him, but knew better to wait until we were in private before acting on them. The Soldier, however, pushed and pushed at those urges until I had a troubling time deciding why they were bad to indulge in in the first place.

Had these urges stayed somewhat tame, I believe I could have fought them off, no matter how painfully tempting they were. But, there remained a very crucial obstacle in my goal for self-discipline and that happened to be, quite simply, that Eliza was one of the most beautiful women I had ever encountered. Her personality certainly amplified that beauty, but you would have had to be lacking eyes if you did not think her smile was irresistible or that the pout she gave when I knew a World War II fact she didn't, wasn't the cutest thing in the world or that her hips and backside weren't made for hands to roam. _My_ hands, specifically. If they were anyone else's, I would tear them off.

The point being my attraction to Eliza was unwavering, and after having made love to her for the first time, completely out of control. It's not like being a brain washed killing machine offered many opportunities to relieve a bit of tension. In the violent sense, I suppose it did, but for my other more...personal desires...they remained a largely dormant and unexplored territory. Eliza, the kind woman that she was, happened to be the key-holder to those chained up desires. And I released them without knowing how ravenous and starved they were.

After the first sexual encounter, I had a near impossible time keeping myself off her. Any chance we had at a few minutes of alone time, I grabbed at her and let her know the full extent of my need for her. Moments in public nearly turned obscene after an innocent kiss transpired into a make out session full of just barely contained moans and mindless groping. I never even bothered to hide it in the beginning. I wanted Eliza every morning, afternoon, and night and I wanted her to know just how badly I wanted her.

Unfortunately, that desire got the Soldier going a little more than I had anticipated. What I felt suddenly got a little too intense, a little too quickly.

Ideas of a quickie turned into tackling her onto the bed and refusing to let her up. Anytime we were in public and I picked up on someone checking Eliza out, not only was I filled with the urge to break that person's neck, but I had a crazed impulse to throw her over my shoulder, sprint back to my apartment, and never let her out again. Seeing her in the nude, seemed to make my discipline suffer the most. Silent chants of _mine, mine, mine_ echoed in my head like a gluttonous chant and it took every ounce of willpower in all my decades of self control to not act out on marking every bit of flesh my mouth could get to.

Where previously, the Soldier had sent me urges, now, he administered demands. The most simple one being: **_she is ours and will be treated as such._** What that entailed, blurred the line between what was legal. There were many, _many_ daydreams I had of making anyone that was both male and her friend, "disappear". Anything I could do so long as I was the only one who had her. These daydreams concerned me because I didn't know if I was just being possessive or if I wanted to possess her.

Around this time, I came to realize, even if a part of me wholeheartedly loved this woman, that eventually, my self control would snap and that the impulses I was having, weren't entirely healthy. As a result, fear gripped me. What if Eliza found out just how unstable my thoughts of her, were? What if I cracked one day and actually hurt some man who was just being friendly toward her? What if I allowed jealousy to overrule logic and did something crazy, like fuck her in a public place? I certainly got hard enough times thinking about that scenario and one occasion, nearly acted out on it.

Most importantly, what if I scared her off so much that she would leave?

I knew it was dangerous that Eliza was dating someone so completely enamored with her. It was even more dangerous when I thought about what I'd be willing to do to ensure she never leave me.

So, in a moment of sanity, I turned to Banner.

I can't remember all that I'd said, only that I'd all but begged him to help. The emotions were too strong, the impulses too frequent, the desires too raw. I feared if I didn't get some control over what I was feeling, it'd be very likely that the world would never see Eliza again because I'd horde her away like some jealous, oversexed monster. And I was a monster already, so hording her away was something I feared to be only a matter of time.

Banner listened patiently to my fears. I guess I should be thankful for that. I was at my wit's end. He momentarily brought tranquility to chaos.

And in order to maintain that tranquility, Banner had me exercise restraint.

First, he tasked me with not touching Eliza as much. I didn't think there was a more difficult thing to do, especially when the Soldier growled at my hesitation. Touching Eliza came naturally to me, and not just the sexual touches. It felt good to rest my hand on the small of her back or rest my fingers on the nape of her neck. Because of her, I learned how much I loved holding someone and the benefits such a simple action had on my nightmares. Curling into her, lips glued to her neck, nose buried in her hair, felt like a home I'd never had.

But for my sanity and Eliza's benefit, I controlled myself. Touches were brief, actual contact became nearly non-existent. It was the right thing to do, even if so much of me rebelled against it.

Next, Banner suggested I temporarily stop sleeping with her. After all, the lust is what drove me to behave like an uncivilized brute. Severing myself from her body would usher in much-needed peace of mind.

Like the touching, this task also proved to be challenging. So challenging in fact that I had to cancel dates and fake prior engagements to avoid the temptation that Eliza presented. The Soldier understood I was attempting to fight off his influence and he became only that much more determined to ruin my progress.

After telling Banner this, he had been visibly concerned. This is what led to an option he never actually suggested, but implied in all his attempts to help me: perhaps I could tame the Soldier if I broke off my relationship with Eliza.

Immediately, I was against the idea. Eliza being in my life made everything better, even if I struggled with being around her. Breaking up with her wasn't a solution, no matter how often the Soldier and I clashed. Unfortunately, by this point, the damage was already done.

 _ **She is not a dumb woman. Did you really think your attempts to distance yourself, would translate well?**_

I gritted my teeth, hands balling up into fists. The anger I'd felt previously, began to resurface.

 _What do you suggest I do, then? Since you obviously know better than me._

 ** _Do you want her in your life?_**

I didn't hesitate to answer.

 _ **Then beginning now, you will allow me an input into your decisions. You will not fight me at every turn. We both want the same thing. Stop making it so difficult.**_

If possible, my fists clenched tighter.

 _I don't want to hurt her. What's to stop you from scaring her off?_

 ** _Believe it or not, I am coming to understand when it is appropriate to kiss her and when it is appropriate to fuck her against every piece of furniture in the nearby vicinity. Her well-being comes above all else. I will not do anything to jeopardize that._**

I released a deep breath, fingers slowly unfurling.

 _Just let me do some of the talking. She's under the impression I dislike her._

 ** _Fine. But if prior experiences serve as any warning, Eliza will be stubborn in her beliefs. If your way does not work, we are trying mine._**

Hesitating, I eventually nodded.

 ** _Good. Before we go see her, however, there is a final confrontation I would like to have._**

 **/./././**

Tony was in the middle of balancing a pencil on his upper lip, when he abruptly lost focus. The pencil slid off his moustache and fell to the floor.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Bruce asked, arms crossed.

A _SMACK_ against the glass behind him, caused the scientist to straighten and turn around.

Immediately, Tony scampered back in his swivel chair. "Oh, he is all yours."

Bruce masked his grimace. He glanced quickly at the door, internally relieved to find it locked.

"Hey Bucky," he began, looking up, "what can I do for you?"

Bucky stood rigidly on the other side of the glass, feet away from the entrance to the room. His face was blank, though the scientist could venture a guess as to why he was there.

"Look," Bruce insisted, "I'm sorry Eliza broke up with you. That wasn't my intention."

"Uh, it sorta was," Tony inserted.

Bruce frowned. "Thanks for your help, Stark. I can always count on you to defuse a situation."

Tony gave him a thumbs up. "No problem."

Shaking his head, Bruce caught Bucky's gaze. "I am sorry. Is there anything I can do to help make this easier?"

Bucky tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

"Never give me relationship advice again," he ordered, voice low and authoritative. "If you do, I will kill you."

Bruce immediately nodded. "Sure thing."

Bucky aimed a final glare at the scientist before turning around and stalking away.

Releasing a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding in, Bruce slumped down on the chair and shook his head.

"I don't get paid enough to do this."

Tony shrugged. "That's why I like ya so much. I don't have to pay you. The unofficial counselor to all the Avengers, plus residential assassin."

"I'm going to get killed one of these days."

"Nah," Tony denied. "My mouth will get me killed first. I'm sure you'll be a close second."

This did nothing to relieve Bruce of his worry.

* * *

 **Just to clarify, the bolded italics are the Winter Soldier side of Bucky, lending his thoughts. Many apologies for how long it took for this chapter to be posted. I ended up losing my outline that contained a lot of Bucky's inner monologue. No matter how hard you try to remember, you can't get it down word for word. It is an immensely frustrating feeling. I'm still not entirely satisfied with the outcome, but it's out and that's what matters. Next chapter: a very heated confrontation.**


End file.
